


Bonnie and Clyde

by csvolny



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, POV Chloe, Road Trip, Sacrificed Arcadia Bay, on their own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csvolny/pseuds/csvolny
Summary: Five years after the events of Life is Strange, Max and Chloe are learning to deal with what they've done to Arcadia Bay.





	Bonnie and Clyde

We're headed to Florida. For some weird ass reason, Max wants to see the Everglades. I glance over at her sleeping in the passenger seat of the RV. I can't deny her anything, so it's off to the Everglades. Next trip is mine; we're going to Washington D.C. so I can see all of the museums and monuments. I've secretly always loved history.

“Where are we?” she creaks from her seat, her head still leaning against the window.

“Nebraska. Don't look out the windows, you'll fall asleep again.”

“It's not that bad!”

“Yeah, tell me that in an hour,” I moan.

“This gives me an idea for some shots. Let's pull over and get some and then sneak into some fields.”

“My girl, the artsy genius,” I reached over and squeeze her leg.

“I'm going to get my cameras, don't do anything crazy without me,” she comes over and kisses me. I still get tingly when she does that. It's as bad as that first kiss she gave me in my room when I dared her.

She goes all the way back to our bedroom and I keep staring at the long, long highway stretching out in front of me. I look left and right at the long, long stretches of crops. _God, I'm going to die. I know it, I'm going to die right here on I-80._

“Oh God,” I yell, “I'm hella bored!”

“Keep quiet up there,” she shouts, “I don't pay to hear you complain, Minion.”

I laugh, “You're never going to let me live that down are you? One freaking time, I told you I worship you and your power and now I'm stuck with it.”

“Of course not!” She's closer, so she must have gotten her cameras. “It's the only control I have over you. Beside,” she kisses me again, “it was more than once.”

I leer at her as she sits down, “Not quite the only control.”

“Hey, I'm not that kind of girl!”

I snicker, “Really? Do I have to remind you of some of the things you've said?”

“I think we need to pull over so I can get some pictures and end this conversation.”

“I saw a sign for the next rest stop in about ten miles, if that's alright. Or do you want to stop here?”

“No, that'll be fine, you want something to eat or drink? I'm flying!”

“Sure, just water,” I shift in my seat. “Why did I let you convince me to go to Florida. Florida, Max, I don't think you could have picked a place further from where we were.”

“Because you love me, and live to serve my every whim.”

“Whatever, where's my water?”

She hands me a water bottle and sits down to fiddle with her cameras. She's got three of them; why, I have no idea. I can't even imagine having one, let alone three. She claims they're all necessary. She's still got my dad's old instant camera, which makes me happy. But then she's got a DSLR and an Adventure Compact. She swears she needs them. Personally, I think she just likes how sexy she looks when she's walking around with all of them over her shoulders.

“What are you laughing about, Girlie?” she asks.

That makes me laugh even more, calling me the same name David used to call me, “You and your cameras, you nerd. I know you just have them so I'm impressed at how cool you are.”

“Duh.”

We pull into the rest stop and stretch before getting out. “Want to get some real food first, or take your pictures first?”

“You're probably hungry, and want to relax without following me around.” She looks up at the sky, “It'll be light enough for a bit, let's eat first.”

She comes over and takes my hand; I always look around when she does that. America is more tolerant, but not everywhere. I'm still amazed at the number of complete strangers telling us we're going to burn in hell for all eternity because we're an abomination to God. Max doesn't like it, but that's why I carry a gun. Of course, her being able to rewind us out of any trouble doesn't hurt either. We go in the restaurant and look around. There's no sign which says wait to be seated, so we walk over to a further booth, still holding hands. One of the truckers at the counter turns to stare at us. I feel Max tighten her grip; she knows me too well.

I can't help it and I stare right back, “Do you need me to kick your balls into your stomach, bitch?” I jerk at him and he pulls back startled.

“Chloe!”, Max pulls my hand, “I can't take you anywhere!”

“He started it,” I whine at her.

The guy next to him starts laughing. The server hurries out from around the counter when we sit down.

“How are you two doing? I thought I was going to have to break up a fight there.”

“We're sorry,” Max says before I can say anything. “Everybody in America says 'be who you are meant to be' but some people don't really mean it.”

“I think it may have been the blue hair,” the server laughs. “We don't get a lot of punk rockers here in the middle of Nebraska. Promise me your girlfriend isn't going to kill anybody.”

“Chloe, what do you say to the nice woman?”

“I'm sorry,” she grumbles, “but if he comes over....”

“Chloe!”

“Fine, if he comes over here, I'll quietly ask him what his fucking problem is.”

The woman laughs, “Can't get better than that!” She places the menus down and goes and gets us some water.

“You know I love you, right? No matter what?” she says to me.

I can't stay angry when she's like that. “It just irritates me, I'm sorry.”

“I know, but you've got me. Between you kicking ass and me rewinding, we're safe from anything.”

I take a deep breath, “So, what's your photo idea?”

“Well, I'm going to try and show the vastness of the fields from a higher angle. Maybe we can get on the roof of the buildings here, or even climb one of the poles. And then contrast that with getting inside the field and showing the individual plants, maybe even the individual grains. I'm going to mix them and superimpose one over the other.”

I shake my head, “Climb one of the poles? Why do I stick around with you?”

“I told you already why you do that. I'm also going to use my muse in a couple of the shots. I want you to stand in the middle of a field, and I'll shoot it from the high spot, and then from inside the field too.” She reaches up and brushes my hair out of my face, tucking it under my beanie. “I love your hair so much.”

We look at the menus and pick something to eat and start talking again. We've just left Rocky Mountain National Park; well, just left is relative, we've traveled for months it seems like across Nebraska.

“You scared the shit out of me the way you were swinging around those mountains in Colorado, you freak,” I tell her.

“Wasn't that the most beautiful place you're ever seen though?! Hey, I was thinking, on the way to Florida, can we maybe stop in Chicago? I've only seen pictures and it looks like a wonderful city.”

I rub my hands together, “Hells yeah, now you're talking, I love the big cities! There's some great museums there, there's the river, the lake, some kick ass bars and restaurants, shit there's even a punk scene.”

“I was surfing the other day, and there are some awesome looking places!” She frowns, “I know if I just keep trying I'll have to eventually sell a lot and make it big. Right?”

I reach over and take her hands, “Don't worry, I know you're going to be huge. I've seen it in my dreams.” She smiles, which makes it worth it.

The server comes back over with our food, and I can't wait to dig in, “I didn't know how hungry I was until I smelled it.”

“Well aren't you sweet,” she says to me. “So, where are you two headed?”

“Well,” Max answers since my mouth is full, “We're actually on a road trip across America.”

“Oh, how romantic! How long have you been traveling?”

“Um... five years.”

“What? How can you afford that?”

I finally slow down enough to answer because I know she won't, “This is Max Caufield, the famous photographer. She takes pictures of everything imaginable every where we go so the trips pay for themselves.”

“Well, that's amazing. Congratulations on living your dreams, not a lot of us get to do that. Where all have you been so far?”

“Oh wowser,” Max says, “We're from Oregon, so we went up to Seattle with my parents for a couple of weeks, then down to California, and now we're making our way east, stopping at interesting places along the way. We're headed to Florida, I've always wanted to see the Everglades.”

We start telling her all the places we've been. I focus on the cities, Sacramento, Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Sante Fe; Max on the surrounding sights, Alcatraz, Yosemite, Sequoia, Death Valley, the Grand Canyon. Each of us interrupting the other, reminiscing about the various places, remembering some of the people we met. Finally, we stop realizing we're probably boring the server.

“Well, you two are the most adorable couple I've seen in a long time, and still so young. I'm so jealous.” She walks back to the counter and I see her talking to the truckers pointing at us.

“No rewinding now. She has to remember the name Max Caufield so she can tell the reporters she remembers when you came in to eat one day.”

We eat in silence for a little bit focusing on our food.

“How are we doing for money?” she asks me. She's funny, she's the one who gets all of our cash for us, but I'm the one who holds on to it. She has no idea how much we have.

“It was over a thousand last time I looked, so I'm sure we'll make it to Chicago. We may have to hit up an ATM then.”

She laughs, “Is that what we're calling it now? You are a terrible influence on me. I was a clean-cut do gooder until you came along.”

“Yeah, and look what it got you? I rescued you from a life of misery.”

We finish eating and head outside, looking around. Behind the restaurant, away from the highway there's an access road and we start walking down it. All along it there are tall poles for stringing, I guess, telephone wires all over the country. We walk for about half an hour and she stops in front of one, looking up.

“Okay, here goes,” she adjusts her cameras so they're on her back, and drops her bag on the ground. She pulls some pegs from the bag and puts them on her shoes; climbing spikes we found in Colorado, ingenious things.

“Possibly the greatest buy we've ever made,” she says as she models them for me.

Finally, she clips her phone into this lanyard thing she bought in Seattle for just this purpose.

“Where do you want me?” I ask.

She starts climbing, “Right there for now, I want to get some without my blue beauty, first.” When she's halfway, she looks down and waves at me. Watching her always makes me nervous. I can't tell when she missteps and has to use the rewind, of course. To me she just climbs it steadily. I can only tell when she changes location.

“How many times have you rewound so far?,” I shout.

“Be quiet, you're distracting me,” she shouts back.

“Be careful, you loser. I'm not picking up your broken body when you crash into the ground. You hear me? I'm leaving you right here for the vultures to find, and I'm off to get a new girlfriend.”

“I'm you're best option, nobody else will have you.”

_It's the other way around Ms.Caufield, I won't have anyone else._

“Hey!” I shout.

“What now?” she stops and looks down.

“I love you, Bumblebee.”

She smiles, “Who's being a mush face now?”

She climbs to just below the level of the wires and I see her pull first one camera and then the other out. I can't tell how many pictures she takes, because she's too far for me to hear the clicking. But if the past is any experience she lets that thing fly.

“Okay, Chloe, go out into that field there, and don't get in any fights on the way,” she shouts. She wraps her left arm around the pole and I see her texting on her phone.

Max: Watch ur phone ill tell you when to stop

Me: Kk

I start walking out into field she wants me to. My opinion is probably biased, but I really like her pictures. She's big on showing contrasts plus she likes to have my blue head in the pictures, kind of like a Where's Waldo thing. It cracks me up.

Me: What you doin

Max: Watching you walk

Me: Keep it in your pants caufield

Max: U r gross

Max: K there

Max: Beanie off

There's a long pause in between texts while she's probably sighting and lining up and framing and doing whatever shit photographers do to get the shot she wants. It surprises me though that a large amount of her stuff is done on the computer after she's taken the pictures.

Max: K maybe 10 feet left is a fat cornstalk behind it with your head out to the right

Me: R u sayin i have a fat head

Max: Y

This goes on for several minutes, her adjusting me through the phone and her lining up. I assume she's taking pictures the whole time because she has me move around to different spots. Finally, she finishes and announces she's coming down. She comes down normally this time, but several times in the past she's taken the easy way out and rewound, showing me the pictures of what she did when she gets back to me. I don't really like when she does that, it's like I'm missing out on a portion of her life and it makes me sad and lonely. I get it, I know she gets tired easily, but I still don't like it.

She joins me in the field and poses me several more times as well as zooming in on the corn stalk and individual ears of corn. In this case, she even zoomed on a single kernel, pulling a single strand of my hair out and wrapping it around the kernel. She always shows me what she's done, pretending that I have some actual artistic input into her creativity. Maybe I do because she listens to me when I make comments and sometimes changes things. Of course, she also hasn't sold very much, so maybe I'm holding her back.

“You ready to go,” I ask her.

“You bet,” she puts all her stuff over her back and takes my hand and we walk back to the RV.

“I think we should stop at an RV rest area tonight. We can loaf, I can blaze and maybe we can hang out at some hippy's campfire.”

“I love when we do that. I love hippies, they're so tolerant and forgiving.”

“Plus they have the best shit.”

“I just wish I wasn't so shy at first, like you,” she takes my arm and leans on my shoulder while we're walking.

“What are you talking about? You always know the exact right thing to say. Everybody loves you, not just me.”

She looks down, embarrassed, “Chloe. Of course it looks that way. When ever I meet people, I rewind like a hundred times to make sure I say the right thing.”

“Well, that might be true, but promise me you won't rewind tonight, if there's a party. I guarantee, everyone will love you. Trust me.”

We fill the RV up at the gas station, check all the 'household' fluid levels and set off again. The driving usually falls to me. She can drive, she just doesn't like to. That's fine with me, I love being on the open road even though Nebraska threatened to bore me to death.

“I guess I didn't die of boredom,” I tell her, looking over at her. She's curled up on the seat, looking out the window. “You always take away my boredom.”

She looks back and there's tears in her eyes, “You goof.” She sniffs, “Do you ever think we made the wrong decision? No, I don't mean that, what I mean is do you ever miss them?”

I nod, “Yes, what brought that on? Sometimes I think when I'm feeling particularly worthless, why did you pick me? I really only miss my mom, and occasionally I miss fighting with David. I kind of miss Frank and Justin and Trevor. I wonder if anyone made it.”

“Somebody had to,” she said sadly, “The news story said only some of the town was destroyed. I'm sure somebody's alive.”

Of course, it's been five years and none of those people have answered my texts. Max tried texting Victoria and some of her other friends, all with no response. So either they made it and are really pissed at us, or they didn't make it. I nod in agreement, not willing to say my thoughts out loud.

I point at a sign on the side of the road, “Next RV hookup, twenty-five miles.”

“Sweet!” She stretches prettily in her seat. “I'm going to upload these to our cloud. Bee Are Bee.” She kisses me as she walks by.

I sigh dramatically, “No emojis and no using text slang in real life, Hippy.”

“You have too many rules, I can't keep them all straight.”

We pull into the rest area, and hook our RV up to the connections. I look out the window and am happy to say there are four other RVs parked here. It's getting darker and I see the hint of a bonfire further out into the grounds. We grab some food to cook for more than just us, some drinks, I grab some weed, and a pipe, in case there's smokers. We step out of the RV and walk hand in hand to the fire, me carrying the basket of stuff. When we get closer, we see there's a bunch of people ranging from maybe 60s to one teenager.

“No blazing tonight,” I say disappointed.

“We'll figure it out, you stoner,” she bumps my shoulder.

As we walk up, one of the guys stands up, “Hello!” He walks over and takes my basket from me.

We walk up to our spot, “I'm Chloe,” and because for some reason I don't care tonight, “and this is my girlfriend, Max.” Max waves shyly. Everybody introduces themselves, most of them standing to shake our hands or hug us.

These RV gatherings are my favorite part of our trip, but not so much Max. She likes the concept of meeting people and she eventually warms up, but the initial meeting is almost painful. I think she goes along with it for me, if she had her way she'd stay in the RV the whole time.

One of the women asks, “Obligatory question, where you guys headed?”

“We're on a long road trip to see America. Max is, Max Caufield, the famous photographer and we're getting pictures from all over the country.”

“Oh how wonderful!” the first man says.

The kid sitting next to him is the teenager and says “My dad and I are taking a smaller trip like that too. We're from Cedar Rapids, Iowa and we're headed to Colorado and then the Grand Canyon.”

Max perks up at that, “Oh my God, we stopped off there for, how long was it Chloe? I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as that in my life. We took the short day hike to that halfway point?” She looks at me again.

“Bright Angel Trail to the Indian Gardens,” I bump her shoulder, “If you have the choice, do not go with a photographer. She made me hold her over the edge so she could get the perfect shot. And then! Made me do it myself because she likes to take pictures of my blue hair.”

Everybody starts laughing, and they start questioning us about where we've been and what we've taken pictures of. Someone asks where we've sold pictures and fortunately, we can answer truthfully; we have sold some, just not a lot. We make our money in other ways, not that we tell anybody that, of course. We end up talking for a long time, well into the night. By some unspoken arrangement, stoners can find each other and the smokers and I head off a couple of times. One of those tokers was the teenager's father himself. I suspected the teenager was too, so I get in a conversation with him and have him 'help' me get some more drinks from our RV.

We sleep late in the morning, Max is usually the first one to wake up and she always wakes me up.

“Hey,” she kisses me.

“Keep that up and we're never getting up,” I grab her and pull her closer.

Rather, we woke up early, but ended up staying in bed longer. We left the camp ground about noon, both of us in very high spirits.

“A road trip was a perfect idea, Chloe,” she says, reaching out for my hand from her seat.

“Nothing makes me happier than to see you happy, Max.” _We have the perfect life._

-o-o-o-

We are stopped in an RV rest area near St. Louis. We got here two days ago, and Max and I did some of the touristy things, saw the sights, went into the Arch, took a trip down the Mississippi. Then, of course, Max got creative and started taking exotic shots of everything, using my blue hair in a lot of them. We took our bikes and roamed all around the city, getting shots of rich vs. poor; she loves the contrasts, no matter what it's about. We stopped for dinner last night at some trendy spot. We dressed up pretty nicely, and scammed a reservation by cheating with the rewind. Max was giggling like she used to do when we first started our road trip. It's so good to see that she still has fun being a bad girl.

Now, she's working on her pictures. I don't really know what she does, but she spends hours in front of the computer with each picture and then prints them out on some fancy ass printer and stores them in a locked box. I'm not sure she actually submits anything for publication though. One time when she was high, she told me that her work isn't good enough and it's much easier to make the pictures and keep them.

“That way, Chloe, I never have to feel the pain of rejection and I can just pretend my stuff is selling.” She fell asleep, crying about being a failure. I just want to both slap her and hold her tightly when she acts like that. She is good enough for the world to see, I know it. But I don't know how to make her see it. She used to sell pictures when we lived in Seattle, I don't really know what happened. She claims that was not art, it was just pictures to newspapers and magazines.

But she's happy now, playing her music too loudly while she works on her pictures. I lay on the bed, watching her from our bedroom. She looks so beautiful while she's chair dancing to her tunes. Our RV is almost identical to the one that Frank had. When we got it, I was kind of insistent; sort of like a tribute to his memory. He was a drug dealer, he could be a serious asshole, but I loved the guy like he was my brother. I take another hit and think about all we've been through since that day in Arcadia Bay.

-o-o-o-

Without telling her, I headed north to go to Seattle and stay with Max's parents, hopefully. I've known them as long as I've known Max, and I think they'll be cool about it. About a mile out of Arcadia Bay Max's emotional high runs down and she started crying about what happened. I pulled over and held her tightly.

“Chloe,” she screamed, “I killed them, I killed everyone.” Her body shook, “I saved Kate from killing herself, only to throw a tornado at her. I destroyed the Two Whales; your mom, Chloe.” She pulled away and looked at me, “I killed your mom and David. I'm sorry, Chloe, I'm so sorry, I couldn't let you die again, I just couldn't.” Over an hour we stayed at the side of the road while she cried herself out. She finally fell asleep, and I started back up for Seattle.

Max woke up as we cross the border into Washington, “Are you going to drop me off in Seattle? I understand why you can't stand the sight of me. I'm a monster.”

“Damn it, no, Max. You're not a monster. You chose to stay with me, and that's one more reason I love you. I told you we'll be together forever, and I meant it. I'm not leaving you ever, you'll have to come up with a more creative way than that to get rid of me. We're going to Seattle to see your parents; we need someplace to live for a while, and if I remember right they're pretty cool.”

She looks at me and smiles, a very weak smile, but it's there, “I love you Chloe Price. I just hope you love me enough to put up with my moods.”

I don't know what to say, so I drop my hand to the seat and hold her hand.

Her parents, Vanessa and Ryan are overjoyed to see us. They'd heard about the destruction of Arcadia Bay and were anxious to hear any news. Our showing up on their doorstep left them relieved and exhausted. Seeing her parents, Max falls into another crying spell, I try to hold her as well as I can but with her parents there, I'm not sure what to do. I think Max should be fully aware to tell them about us. Her parents are caring and loving and drag me into the family session; I start crying with Max about everything that's happened, but I whisper in her ear that we have each other.

We all finally calm down, and sit in the Caufield living room having coffee. I never got used to that shit, so I'm having a coke instead.

Max takes a sip of coffee, “Mom, nobody makes coffee like you in Arcadia Bay.”

“Oh, Max, just go to Starbucks, it's better than anything else.”

She turns to me, “We didn't have one there, did we?”

“No,” I tell her, “Just the Two Whales.”

She looks down for a minute, and her parents are quiet. “I have something to tell you, and now is probably as good a time as any.” She takes my hand. “Chloe and I are a couple, we're in love with each other.”

Her dad looks a bit uncomfortable, like he doesn't know what's expected of him, not like he disapproves. Her mom has no problem at all.

“You know, Max, that makes perfect sense. You two have always been so close. It really was just a matter of time.”

We stayed at her parents house for a couple of months, long enough for me to get a certificate in auto mechanics at a trade school. I manage to get a low end job at a repair shop, there's not a lot of women car mechanics so they snapped me up as soon as I applied. Her father bought her the DSLR camera, and she started taking pictures of Seattle. It started out promising, she was able to sell a lot of them freelance to the local newspapers and magazines. We talked about her power and we both decided, at first, that we probably shouldn't use it. Certainly not more than once a day, based on the experiences we had in Arcadia Bay.

Pretty quickly we realized that her parents, while not disapproving of our lives, didn't exactly embrace it either. We never talked about it with them but that didn't stop them from subtle comments, and conversations with Max, excluding me deliberately. I get it, they were trying to both protect their daughter, from me, and to get her out on her own.

I came down the stairs and heard Max and her mom talking in the kitchen, so I listened in, “Max, you're doing so well with your photography. Don't you think?”

“Oh yes, mom, I'm selling a lot better than I expected! I can't thank you and dad enough for buying me the camera. I swear, I'm going to pay it back as soon as I can.”

“No, that's not necessary. We love our baby girl, it was a gift. But...” her mom stopped and I listened closer, I knew that tone.

“What, mom?” Max said with a bite in her voice.

“I know that you think you love Chloe, you two have grown up together after all and you've been through a nightmare together. But are you sure being with her is the best thing? Doesn't it seem to you, just a bit, that she's holding you back?”

“No, mom, it does not seem like that to me. Yes, she's not a high powered engineer working for a huge corporation like dad, but she's my girlfriend and I'm going to stay beside her forever. For a 19 year old couple, I don't think we're doing all that badly. We're at least the same as half the other couples out there. We're not alcoholics, we don't abuse each other, we don't cheat on each other, we don't ignore each other.” I heard the chair push away from the table, “We love each other, mom and I'm sorry that you don't understand that.”

I didn't move fast enough and she came around the corner with an angry look on her face. At the sight of me scrambling to avoid being seen she smiled but was still obviously angry.

“We're going for a walk, Chloe,” she snapped at me. “Now!”

“Great, sounds fun!” I followed after her, “Should I... um... let your mom know?”

“I don't care, let's go.”

She slammed the door behind her, “We're leaving. I love my parents, but that was completely out of line.”

I tried to look innocent, “What?”

“Stop it! I know you heard everything.”

My insecurity started to rise, “Maybe your mom is right. Maybe I am holding you back with my crappy job.”

She stopped me in the middle of the sidewalk and reached up and grabbed my cheeks between her hands, “Listen to me carefully. You are not holding me back. I've got the confidence to sell my pictures around Seattle. I never had that confidence at school. Why do you think that is, you dork? Because of you! I love you, Chloe Price, I want you with me forever. Do you understand me?” She pulled me closer and kissed me almost savagely.

I pulled back and looked at her, “I'm sorry. I just... worry.”

She hugged, me laying her head on my shoulder, “That's funny, because I want to make my decision worthy of you. I want to make sure you don't have a reason to leave me.”

As always happens with me, I didn't know what to say so I held her tightly and promised it would never happen. That night we decided what we wanted to do, and after a lengthy discussion of all the possibilities we could think of, including staying here, we chose a road trip across America.

“Now, money, Max,” I said. “I don't think we have any choice but to use the rewind. We're going to need an RV, and supplies to get moving and I don't really see either one of us getting a hella good job any time soon. Your parents were great buying us our clothes and all, but we should pay them back. I don't want to owe them anything. You know?”

She looked worried, “I agree completely, I don't want to deal with them anymore, unless we have to. But we're going to have to go slow. Remember what happened when I used the power too much. I need to practice a lot more. I haven't rewound since we got here.”

I kept going to work, while Max practiced using her power more. She learned to rewind for over an hour; the headaches were always pretty intense. The nosebleeds got bad if she went too far back at one time, or used it too many times in one day. But she learned how to deal with it, and it became easier.

We started making a list of all of the things we would need. We also were keeping an eye out for ways to make a large amount of cash quickly. The rewind was useful, but it wasn't a sure thing. If Max managed to get hurt in the process, everything was over.

I started the list. “Near work there's an RV dealer, and I've got the perfect one. I'm thinking we can get the keys the same way you got the keys from Frank that one time. I also think we should work on a routine for getting cash, so we can pull it off fast.”

“Probably we should keep all of this hidden from your parents. They'll start asking uncomfortable questions we can't answer truthfully.”

“You know what, Chloe, right now, I don't care what they think.”

We figured hitting a bank, we'd be able to make enough money, and do it quickly enough to avoid cameras if there were any. On the day of our first job, we parked the car and sat, both very nervous.

“We're going to be just like those Ocean movies we watched with your dad, remember those?” she said, hugging me.

“He was such a weirdo, wasn't he? Do you remember he'd laugh his ass off at those movies and then quickly tell us not to lead a life of crime.”

She made her voice deep, “It's not as glamorous as it looks in the movie, girls. You understand that, right?”

I started laughing, “Sure, dad, hey, can we get a ride to the bank tomorrow? Me and Max want to open an account.”

“I remember him threatening to ground us!” I got quiet and Max took my hand, “I miss him, too.”

“Alright,” she said, “we'll just practice with one teller, okay? We get up there, you threaten, they give me the money and then I rewind. Remember, I have to start it off. I'll say 'start' or 'done'.”

“Got it, Max, we'll get in and get out. Ready?” She nodded and off we went.

The bank we picked was in a fairly distant suburb of Seattle. Her mom was letting us borrow her car so we drove out there and went in; it was quiet, there was only one customer. We went up to the open teller, and I heard Max whisper “done.”

She walked up to the teller, “How much money do we have to have to open up a savings account?”

It took a lot of control for me not to completely freak out. How did I do? Was I impressive? Did I scare the shit out of the teller? Did I have to shoot anybody?

“It's 100 dollars to open the basic account.”

“Oh,” she frowned, “We'll have to come back. Thank you so much.”

We went back to the car and I flipped out on her, “How did I do? Was I a total bad ass? Did I wave the gun around like a crazy person, or did I look like I was completely in control? Did I have to shoot anyone?”

She looked at me very seriously, “Chloe, you were absolutely amazing. Seeing you pull that off, I'd believe you were meant for a life of crime. I should figure out how to get pictures of you, it was so cool.”

I couldn't help myself and I screamed, “YES!”, pumping my fists for all their worth. “This totally rocks! Um... how much did we get?”

She pulled out what looked like a huge wad of cash, “This much. We can count it when we get home. Do we have any place to hide it?”

On the way home, we stopped off at a hardware store and bought a big lock-box. It was labeled as a half size footlocker. We bought another smaller box for our cash, and Max bought another small one for some pictures, to put inside the footlocker.

We counted the money; all the stuff came to about 300 dollars and we still had over 4000 left.

Every other day, we'd hit a single teller at a distant bank and in two weeks we had enough money to start our trip. If our bank robberies were making the news, we didn't hear about it; at least no one came knocking on the door. Max was giddy with excitement and the thrill of being bad. She did figure out how to take pictures of me. I loved seeing my bad ass self in action. They must have thought we were insane, me waving a gun around and her snapping pictures, telling them to fill up the bag. It was awesome!

Max's dad went to work and her mom needed the car, so Max and I decided that was the day to take off. We gave them 10,000 dollars and put it in an envelope. We took an Uber to the place near my work, and stole an RV. Max left a note for her parents.

Mom and Dad,

Thank you for putting up with us for these several months. You saved our lives when we needed it the most and we will always be grateful. But for a while all the conversations we've had made me not want to deal with you. Instead of trying to see and accept who I am, who we are, all you've done is try to convince me to leave Chloe. You've told me again and again that she is holding me back. What you don't see, what you can't see because of who you are, is that Chloe has brought out the best in me.

Chloe and I love each other. I know that you don't believe it, that we're just young and living with a shared nightmare. But it's a lot more than that, and I wish you would take the time to understand that, instead of what you've been doing. I can't get rid of Chloe, she is a part of me, and always will be. Getting rid of her would destroy me.

Do not try to find me, we will get in touch with you when we're ready. Right now, I only want to be as far away from you as possible.

Goodbye, Max

We started driving toward California. Max was quiet at first, curled up in her seat, looking out the window. We stopped after a couple of hours and went on a shopping spree to fill up our new RV with food, and all the things we needed to make it our home. She managed to perk up, but I could see her parents affected her pretty badly.

-o-o-o-

“How about a lottery?” I say to her, my hands under my head while we're still in bed in St. Louis. We haven't really been motivated to move much further at the moment. Life is nice here in St. Louis, no reason to take off so soon.

“I don't know, how far in advance do we have to buy those tickets? I mean, I've gotten so I can go back a whole day, but you're seen what a mess I am afterwards.”

I kiss the top of her head, “There's my Bad Max, you don't even blink an eye at doing something illegal.”

“I learned from the Master,” she pinches me. “Besides, somebody has to win those things, it might as well be us.”

“Probably not the big multi-gazillion dollar one, that would be too public. I don't really know what else there is.”

“I think if we just match some of the numbers, we'll win a smaller prize. I think there's different ones in Illinois and Missouri too.” She turns to look me in the face, “Did you ever imagine we'd be talking casually about some state other than Oregon?” She gives me a long kiss, “Thank you for making my dreams come true.”

“That's what I'm here for,” I hold her, I don't want to get up.

“Now, I'm excited to try it out!” She rolls over and grabs her phone off the nightstand, and then curls back up on me.

“Okay, on the Illinois side, it looks like there's a six number one which would get us a couple of million but if we match five numbers we get around two thousand. What does pari-mutuel mean?”

“No clue, dude, what do I look like? Look it up,” I laugh.

“Well, not my hero anymore, that's for sure,” she flops over on her back. “Oh, it means the prize varies depending on how many people buy tickets. Let's do it! The drawing is tonight! I'll try to come back to right about now and I'll let you know how we did.”

I get up to take a shower and when I come out Max is laying on the bed, blood gushing from her nose and even her ears. She's curled over the way she gets when the headache is so intense, she can't hold her head up. She looks at me, her body wobbling. “I got the numbers,” she whispers, barely audible, pointing at the table in the other room and then passes out.

I clean her off and tuck her under the covers, not really knowing what else to do. While practicing the long time shifting, she's come back like this before but I worry so much about the damage it must be doing. Not wanting to waste her sacrifice, I take the paper she wrote and go out and buy a lottery ticket, matching five of the six numbers. When I get back, she's still out cold, so I lay in bed holding her, hoping we haven't made a terrible mistake. She slept all the way through the night; I checked on the internet and sure enough, we matched five numbers.

I was awake before she was, just laying with her. “Did you buy the ticket?” she asks, quietly.

“You're awake,” I kiss her, “Of course, we'll cash it in as soon as you can move and then head for Chicago. I don't know how much it'll be though.”

She finally gets up and we eat some of my delicious breakfast; Pop-Tarts and I make coffee for Max.

When we cash in the ticket, with taxes taken out, the amount comes to about twenty-three hundred. We frown at each other; the damage done does not make this worth it.

“Maybe we can try one of the bigger lotteries, like that one that a bunch of states have together?” I tell her when we get back to the RV.

“Yeah, the headache I get for traveling that far doesn't make this worth it.” She laughs, “I have this amazing gift, and I'm bitching about it.”

“That's my little cry baby,” I tell her, “But I get it. Who the hell wants to go through what you go through for a couple of thousand? The way you spend money, you'll burn through that by tonight.”

I have to dodge as she tries to kick me.

“Okay, let's head to Chicago then. While you were unconscious, I looked up RV parks up there. Nothing in the city, really, but there was this one site that said we could park at some place called McCormick Place. We won't have electricity or any hook ups though.”

“What!? What else we got?”

“There's some normal ones in the far suburbs, a place called Joliet, another called Union. Joliet has the advantage of also being the location of a former prison. I don't know what it is now, though.”

“Ooo! I have a photo idea! I'll contrast that prison with Alcatraz! Let's go there!”

“On our way, Hippy,” I sit in the driver's seat and fire up the motor.

It takes us about five hours to get to Chicago and the trip was about as boring as Nebraska and Iowa, until we reached the city outskirts. We got lost trying to find Joliet and ended up getting there long after dinner. We spend the next few weeks in Chicago, wandering everywhere imaginable. Max gets her photo series of Joliet Penitentiary. The buildings seem to mostly be unused, so we couldn't enter them legally. It was justified, Max told me I got hit by falling shit twice while we there, and we both fell through a floor once. That didn't stop her from taking pictures, but her nose was bleeding by the end of the day.

For several days, instead of Ubering into the city each day, we rented a hotel room and went wild. Having money to burn and an easy way to get it back gives people an entirely different outlook on life. Both of us were giving out money left and right to the many homeless folks we came across or just help random strangers. Of course, we also take care of ourselves and go to the nicest restaurants that don't need reservations and do all the tourist things; see all the sites, go down the Magnificent Mile where I spend over a hundred on a hat for Max.

Pretty quickly we burned through our immediate supply of cash and start hunting around for a way to get more. It's evening, and we're thinking of going to a movie. All of the banks are closed, so going against our previous promises, we decide to take the money from one of those all night convenience stores. We should have planned this more.

We stand up to leave our hotel room, and suddenly Max is standing in front of me, a bright red bruise on her cheek, her shirt torn, crying uncontrollably. Her nose is pouring blood and she clearly is unable to focus on anything. She drops a handful of money and collapses. I am barely able to catch her before she hits the floor.

She comes to a couple of hours later. Immediately, she starts crying, “Chloe, he killed you! You threatened him with your gun, and he acted like he was going to get the money and turned around with a shotgun and killed you; your chest exploded and you went flying backward just like in the movies. Chloe, he was going to shoot me too! I rewound and jumped over the counter, grabbing where he'd pulled the gun from and threw it away from him. We fought but he was stronger than me, but you hit him over the head with something, you were too afraid of hitting me if you shot him.”

“Oh God, Max, I'm sorry! I'm not putting you through that again.”

She keeps telling me over and over that he'd killed me for the next couple of hours, holding on to me tightly to prevent me from leaving her side. For several days, she won't let me out of her sight. The haul on that one is only about a thousand. This isn't worth it; the emotional damage being done to Max is more than I can take. Eventually, we head back to our RV. We're running low on cash again, and Max suggests a bank. My terrible influence has ruined her completely, she doesn't even try to think of another plan.

“It's the best and easiest,” she says. “I've been reading about it, and it looks like the bank tellers are told to just to give the money up. They rely on their electronics to catch us. Most places don't even use marked bills because they're too expensive for something that doesn't happen often enough. Basically, a bank relies on it's insurance to handle it.” We hit a bank on the way home; the Uber driver never had a clue what we were doing.

When we get back to our campground, we see there's a few more RVs and a group of people have gathered at one of the fire pits. I look at Max hopefully, and she smiles and puts her hand on my cheek.

“Of course we're going, you goof,” she tells me.

We get some food and drink, I grab some weed and we head over to the party. The usual introductions occur, but this time I don't mention that we're a couple. It turns out I don't have to.

One of the women asks, “How long have you two been together?”

We look at each other and Max says, “Is it that obvious?”

Half of the group nod their heads and we both start laughing, “Officially a little over five years,” I put my arm around her, “but we grew up together so really I've loved her my entire life.” Max lays her head on my shoulder, and whispers “Me too.”

The crowd erupts in “awes” and we sit down and make conversation. The variety of people is always amazing to me, but there really is only a certain personality type that is willing to travel in an RV. Age doesn't seem to matter, although they're generally older, but they're usually slightly adventurous but not over the top and almost universally accepting.

I turn and kiss Max when there's a quiet in the conversation and I think no one is paying attention, “Thank you for giving me the world, Max. I'm not sure I ever told you how much I love you for being with me. My life has meaning now, and I find myself less angry.”

I made her speechless, she just hugs me tighter, and lays on my shoulder.

-o-o-o-

For several days now, Max has been waking up later than me. For the entire time we've been together, she's been the first one that wakes up. Even as kids, during our sleepovers, she'd get up first. I don't know what to do about it, but I'm sure it has to do with her power. She also seems to tire out a lot faster, she can't ride her bike around the city anymore. Regularly, she starts bleeding from her nose.

“Max, are you traveling?”

“No, Chloe, of course not,” she snaps at me. “Why would you ask that?”

“Look at you, Max. You sleep all the time, your nose is constantly bleeding. You're a wreck.”

“Oh, I don't know, Chloe. Maybe it's the fact that I've got this stupid power I didn't ask for, and we rely on it to support us. Maybe my body is worn out robbing banks, and rewinding to say the right things, and stopping you from getting killed. Did you ever think that might be it?”

Once again, I have no idea what to say. Somehow, I think holding her isn't the right thing, right now. I leave the RV and go sit by myself at the fire pit of our last party. Idly, I poke through the ashes and decide to start another fire going. It'll help keep me occupied until she calms down.

About two hours later, she comes over to me and drapes herself over my back, “Chloe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that. I'm scared because I know something's wrong too, but I don't know what to do about it.”

“We can go to the hospital.”

“Yeah,” she laughs caustically, “Hey, doc, whenever I time travel, my nose bleeds. What do I do about it?”

“Stop time traveling,” I tell her.

“Chloe, I haven't done any since the last bank, a couple of weeks ago, when we got like ten thousand from those two tellers.” She sits down and takes my arm, watching the fire. “Besides, we do need the money. Admittedly, this should last a long time, if we're careful but we'll need more eventually.”

After awhile some groups of people start showing up, asking how everything is.

“We having a cookout tonight?” one guy asks us. His friends makes smoking motions, and I laugh looking at Max.

She shakes her head, but smiles, “Go ahead, you stoner.”

We party long into the night again. Somebody plays some music, actual music not some guy with a guitar, and we're able to dance. Max has turned into quite the free spirit and dances with anybody who asks her.

The next morning, Max wakes up first, “Wake up, Buttercup!”

I groan, “What the hell? I've gotten used to you sleeping in. Go back to bed, we'll get up in a bit.” I bury my head under the pillow. Why is she suddenly so hyper!

She jumps on my back, “Come on, get up! Let's go to the city today. Let's find some bitching Punk Rock club, let's rent a hotel room again. I feel better than I have in months.” She jumps out of bed, pulling me with her. Naturally, I try to make it as difficult for her as possible.

“Chloe Price, if you don't get up right this minute, I'm going out there and telling everyone what an ass you are. They'll all be on my side, you know it.”

“Except for the stoners.”

“Only losers are stoners,” she shouts, pounding on my back.

“That actually feels kind of good. Alright! I'm up,” I roll over as she starts trying to tickle me.

We take showers and eat our breakfast, before heading out. We meet one of the couples, leaving their RV.

“Where are you two headed?” he asks us.

Max perks up, “We're going to a Punk Club in the city.”

The woman says, laughing. “I should have figured with your blue hair, Chloe. You two have fun, we'll keep an eye on your camper. How long are you going to be gone?”

“Probably a couple of days this time,” I tell her as Max drags me toward the road.

We take an Uber to the city, rent a hotel and find the nearest Punk bar to go to and then we both take naps until around nine at night. When we get to the bar, I can't keep Max off the dance floor. She also starts drinking, which surprises me; she never drinks. She won't do drugs without me, I hope but I keep an eye on her anyway. I think what's happening is some kind mania because she's been so sick lately. Around two in the morning, we get separated in the pit and I look around frantically for her. She's wasted enough that I'm certain something terrible is going to happen. I search the entire place, and finally go out the back door to see her surrounded by three guys.

I'm in the habit of bringing my gun, since I never know if she's going to be too sick to rewind. Besides, I don't think she's ever rewound while she's drunk. I make sure I can get it quickly.

“What's going on? Leave her alone,” I demand.

“Chloe!” she shouts, far too drunk to know what's going on. “They don't believe I can rewind time.”

“Mind your business, Blue, she came out here on her own.”

I pull out the gun, “Get the fuck away from her.”

They're a little surprised, but then the guy grabs Max around the throat and holds her like a hostage and the other two come towards me.

“Nope, it's not going to happen,” I say quietly and pull the trigger hitting the two. I point the gun at the last one's head. “Let her go.” He does and starts running down the alley. I shoot him in the back.

“Chloe, no!” she sounds like she's sobered up. She raises her hand to rewind, but collapses holding her head. “Chloe, I can't undo it! Oh God, what do we do?”

I take her hands, and pull her toward me, “We'll figure it out.”

“No,” she cries out, “I did this to you.” She tries to rewind again, and suddenly I see everything going backwards. The three guys get up off the ground and walk backwards into the club.

“What's going on, Max?” I shout. “Why didn't I rewind too?”

“Put the gun away Chloe,” she whispers to me, and falls unconscious again.

I put the gun back and pick Max up, carrying her to the street so we can get back to the hotel. What the fuck just happened? I shot three people, and Max rewound. With me! Is that what she sees every time it happens? Why did it happen?

I watch her while she's sleeping to make sure everything is alright. I don't fucking know, I think she's alive, that's about all I can tell. Even asleep, she's got blood dripping out her nose. This time she has it coming from her ears too. She doesn't seem to be able to catch her breath. Every so often she cries out. Her eyes are closed tight, like she's trying to unsee something. She sleeps until the afternoon, I am unable to sleep at all.

“Chloe, did that really happen last night?” she says, hoarsely.

“Well, let's see. Do you mean did you almost get raped by three guys? Oh wait, maybe you mean did I kill the three of them? No, you must mean, did you rewind time with me still in it?”

“I don't know what happened, Chloe, I'm sorry,” she cries.

I sigh and sit on the bed, gently pulling her closer to me. She collapses in to my lap, it seems like it's still hard for her to breathe. The bleeding has stopped though, I guess that's a good sign.

She takes a deep breath, “I'm so sorry. I don't know why I was drinking. Chloe, I just want to be strong like you,” she said, turning to look at me. “You're the coolest person I've ever known, and I'm so jealous. You're such a bad ass. Did you see what you did to those guys?”

“I killed them, Max. I didn't think twice, I shot them, and shot the last guy in the back while he was running away. I'm the monster, Max, not you.”

She tries to lift her head to kiss me, but is too weak, “No you're not, you protected me because I'm too stupid to know better.”

“Why do you think I was able to rewind with you this time?” I ask, trying to get her off that track.

“I can't even begin to imagine,” she answered. “Maybe the stress from the situation, maybe because we were touching. I don't think we've ever had held hands when I rewind.”

“I do know that seemed to hurt you a lot worse than normal rewinds,” I stroke her hair. “How you feeling? You hungry? You thirsty?” She nods weakly, so I order room service. While we're eating we turn the TV on.

Flicking through channels we hear stories that freeze us.

“... water spout has occurred in the Puget Sound, heading for Seattle....”

“A hurricane, appearing in the Pacific, east of Hawaii, expected to make landfall in Los Angeles....”

“... unprecedented event, the temperature is eighty-five degrees in Las Vegas and there is definitely snow falling...”

“... throughout The Rocky Mountain National Park system, birds are falling from the skies, dead...”

“In St. Louis, the Mississippi has risen to record heights, over flowing it's banks and flooding the surrounding areas. Fish and aquatic reptiles are laying dead, as if they've been thrown miles from the rivers. This is only occurring in the immediate vicinity of St. Louis area, no where else along the river is affected.”

“A category five hurricane has spontaneously formed in Lake Michigan and is heading for Chicago. The city is being evacuated, but it may be too late. Chicago is not prepared a storm of this magnitude.”

Max and I look at each other in horror.

“Oh God, Chloe, I did it again. I can't live with this.” I was just as horrified, we both fell asleep crying.

I must have been much more tired than I thought. I woke up alone in bed, I never heard or felt Max leave. Panicked, I got out of bed and saw a note on the nightstand.

Chloe, I'm such a coward for leaving you like this. All of this weather is because of me. The problem was never about altering the timeline like we thought, it's always been about the universe made a mistake with me. So it's trying to fix it and get rid of me. If I don't go along with it, I will be responsible for killing millions of people, Chloe. Millions.

In the past five years, you have given me more than I ever expected. I ran out on you when you needed me the most, and you took me back. You showed me that you have always loved me. Chloe, I have always loved you. I never told you, but even as a little girl when we weren't able to play together, I would stay in my room and pretend that we were married.

Remember me forever, Chloe, but live the life you should have had before I ruined it. I never should have dragged you into this, and I'm sorry I'm so selfish. I have to let you live free and I'll stop the destruction.

I will forever be yours, you are my heart and soul. I will always be part of you.

Love forever, Max

“Max, no!” I crumple the note and throw it on the ground. Quickly, I get dressed wondering where the hell she would go. I race down to the lobby and question everyone. When I get no answers, I take a deep breath and sit in the lobby. “Where would she go?” I think back to Arcadia Bay and it hits me. “The tornado.”

I go back up to the up to the front desk, “Do you know where that tornado is supposed to hit first?”

“Isn't that terrible? I can't imagine what's causing that. The reports say it's going to destroy Navy Pier, before heading further inland.”

I call for an Uber, pacing madly outside the front door until it gets there. We're only a couple of miles from Navy Pier here, and the wind has already picked up. Bits of paper and crap are flying through the streets like a wasteland. Finally the Uber driver pulls up.

“I thought I must have misunderstood. I'm not going to Navy Pier, are you insane?”

I reach in my pocket, and show him the wad of cash, “You can have all of this. Get me there, now!”

He takes a deep breath, and nods. It takes far too long to get there, and he only goes so far. I toss him the cash and run as fast as I can toward the lake, looking frantically for Max.

At last I see her, right on the edge of the cement, standing looking at the whirlwind heading towards her. I grab her from behind and hold her tight.

She hugs me back, “Chloe, no, why did you look for me? Stay away from me! You're better off, live your life without me!” She's not letting go of me though.

“You idiot, without you, I have no reason to keep going. You saved me in every possible way, more than I can ever show you. Did you really think I was going to let you die by yourself?”

“I've hurt you too much, just let me go!” She tries pushing me away.

“No, Max, I will never let you go. Our life is seriously fucked up, we are the bad guys. Frank was right, we're Bonnie and Clyde. But in the past five years, you've made me happy to be alive again. If you're not with me, I don't want to live a normal life. We're doing this together.”

We stand, holding each other watching the tornado come toward us. It seems to be moving too slow to actually do anything, and while we can feel the wind blowing, it's not that strong yet.

"So, you wanted to marry me?" I ask her.

She turns and looks at me, ""I still do."

“Do you know, I've always loved your name, I always wanted to call you Maxine, but I know you hate it.” I tell her.

She squeezes me, “You could have, I might have liked it if you did.”

“I'm sorry we never got to see the Everglades.”

She kisses me for a long time, and we suddenly feel the storm getting more intense. The wind gets louder and we can no longer hear anything but the wind.

“Chloe Price,” she screams at me, “I love you more than anything in the world. Thank you for staying with me.”

I take her in my arms, holding her as tightly as I can. I feel the ground sliding under us, and suddenly there is no ground. I close my eyes, struggling to hold on to Max and never let her go.

-o-o-o-

“As quickly as the hurricane appeared, it has disappeared. The strong winds caused massive destruction and some of the outlying suburbs may take years to recover....”

-o-o-o-

Art World Magazine:

Two years ago, the Chicago area was devastated by a massive hurricane, and in the town of Joliet, Illinois a discovery was made while cleaning up the aftermath. A locked box was found with the photographs of Max Caufield, an artist at the time who had only sold some minor works to Seattle journals. The works consist of several series from many of the cities and landmarks of the Western United States. Her genius often shows the contrasts of modern life. In addition, the brilliant addition of her muse and lover, Chloe Price with her shocking blue hair have set the art world aflame. Did the blueness represent a form of depression? Perhaps, the strength of her muse shows the strength of their connection and commitment to one another.

The two grew up together in Arcadia Bay. After a five year separation, they reunited, destined to be together....


End file.
